


My Heart is a Fist

by karrenia_rune



Category: Gargoyles
Genre: F/M, Future Tense, Promptfic, fanfic100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-10
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at Brooklyn/Demona's relationship from the episode "Future Tense. in two parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: My Heart is a Fist  
Fandom: Gargoyles, General Animated Series  
Author: karrenia  
Rating: Teen and Up  
Words: 951  
Prompt: #44 circle  
Link to Table: "table">  
64/100  
Genre: AU, set in the Future Tense-verse from the 2nd Season

Disclaimer: Gargoyles belongs to Disney and Buena Vista Televisions; it is not mine. This story is set in the universe shown in the 2nd season episode “:Future Tense” and features Brooklyn and Demona and could very well verge into the AU category. #44 circle

 

“My Heart is a Fist” by karrenia

No one is ever told what might have happened if events had taken an entirely different and unexpected turn; mostly this is because the average person is not possessed of the ability to see into the future. Even Demona with all of her native skill and training in the arcane never claimed to have the ability to foretell the future. She had always thought of herself of living very much in the now of the moment; and anticipating how events would flow into the future.

She did not remember where she has heard this phrase, but it seemed applicable under the circumstances, and as she leaned on the armor-plated shoulder of her second-in-command and mate she whispers in a harsh undertone: “Old soldiers never die they just fade away.”

For his part he knows that she meant that old bromide dredged up out of the dim memories of happier times as a reassurance; as encouragement to keep on fighting.

Keep on fighting, even though the odds were very much stacked against them. He had not just been a witness to the maiming and blinding of his rookery brother, Broadway? He had and the worse part of it, was there had been nothing he could have done to prevent it. The fact alone grinds at his gears, but he and Demona are the leaders of the resistance in this brave new world, a world that has invariably and in no uncertain terms made it clear that they and their kind are not wanted.

Even now, if pressed and for an answer to the question that they’ve all asked themselves at one time or another through the long struggle: Where and when did it all go so horribly wrong?

When did a fight to prove that that humans and gargoyles can work together even in a world that feared and mistrusted them because they’re gargoyles has now become a fight for mere survival? He doesn’t know and neither did Demona.

However, that question as vexing as it might be, is the least of their worries.

He’s just glad that they’ve had the resources to stay at least one step ahead of those that would see them destroyed. That’s the reason that they’re out here within sight of the Eyrie Building, risking detection by the patrols of metallic replicas of winged-gargoyles that criss-cross over the city of Manhattan keeping an unsleeping vigil on the citizens. Martial law had been enforced almost three years ago to the date, and even the ordinary citizens of the city rarely stirred out of doors at night.

She stares up at the building and even from this distance she could have sworn that she could sense the malice that radiates out from it like heat waves: ‘This is the source of the problem.’, she muttered under her breath.  
Brooklyn shuffled his feet, the loose gravel of the stone outcropping upon which they stand crunching underneath the soles of his boots.

They both know that emotions other than resolve and the fury to carry them both through to the next night, the next fight are dangerous, and yet even as she exchanges a significant glance with the brick-red gargoyle who is her mate, Demona realized that she is still capable of holding an inner reserve of tenderer feelings.

‘The heart knows what it needs, and Demona’s heart, wayward organ that its, has not yet become like stone.

In the back of her mind she wonders, ‘maybe a fist, but never stone. For if I, we allowed our hearts to become as stone, that would be the day we lost the war.’

“Is he certain?” she asked aloud wondering even as she did so if she was tempting fate by questioning the plan they had all agreed on earlier in the past few weeks. Their inner circle had grown very scant and it is even more vital than ever that could rely on another, but she still could not help asking.

“As certain as he can be.” Brooklyn sighed. “You know Lex is obsessive when it comes to accuracy of his computer hacking and models, and he hates to be wrong.”

“I would hate to risk everything on estimate of the strength of the security force-field,” said Demona.

“No more would I. Besides, we all realize how just how important is that nothing goes wrong.  
Cause even one little thing, and we all go out in a blaze of glory.” Brooklyn shrugged and offered her a wry off-center grin that she well remembered from when they had both started out.

It had been a long time since that wry grin had made an appearance and after all this time Demona found that she very much missed it.

“You always did have a way with words, Brooklyn-my love.” Demona replied with a faint smile darting around the corners of her lips.

“Yeah, I guess,” Brooklyn replied, surprised and a little heartened at the same time that after all this time they could find inner reserves that could sustain them both no matter how terrible things might have become. “I guess we’re in this for the long haul.”

“Indeed. And as interesting as going out in a blaze of glory might be,” she said, “If I were to make that final departure, I would insist on taking more than a few of our enemies along for the ride.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he replied. And then, as if by unspoken agreement they fell into each other’s embrace as their wings came up and around to wrap around each other like a cloak and they stood together with their lips pressed to each other’s mouths and their hands wrapped around each other.


	2. The Sky has Claws

"The Sky has Claws" by karrenia

 

It’s said that revenge is a dish best served cold, but if that’s true than why does betrayal feel like a hot sticky lump in his chest? Brooklyn is not at all certain how he feels seeing his one-time rookery brother’s face on the screen taunting them with the seemingly over-whelming odds stacked against the Resistance. 

He steals a glance over at his mate and co-leader, Demona, sensing and gaining a measure of strength from her calm and determined face. It’s more than likely a good thing that with his brick-red coloring those he leads cannot see the angry flush that spreads across his face. His fists ball up and low snarl slips past his lips. He knows that he must get his emotions under control, that giving into them at this critical juncture in their campaign would be dangerous, if not fatal.

In the back of his mind he wonders: ‘If the identity of the enemy they face changes the board all that much. This world that they find themselves in, a world gone mad, would even notice if they were to disappear from it?’ He heaved a sigh and twitched his tail back and forth, almost but not quite in rhythm with his meandering thoughts. “Bad thoughts, bad luck,” he mutters aloud to himself.

He steals a glance to were Broadway looks up, his large, liquid eyes now deprived of sight, to Matt Bluestone, and thinks of the oldest and perhaps wisest member of the Manhattan Clan, Hudson, who is no longer with them. He is suddenly reminded of something that Hudson once said to Xanatos: “Immortality isn’t about how long you’ve lived; it’s about what you’ve done in the time you have been given.”

He takes several deep breaths in succession, and feels rather than sees Demona slip over to him and rest her hands on his shoulders. 

Brooklyn nods his thanks and then squares his shoulders.

For her part Demona is not completely oblivious to the emotional turmoil that the others are coping with seeing that have been not only deceived but also betrayed by one of their own. She has lived too long and seen and done too much to feel the burn of yet one more. 

It is the time and the events in which they live that brought her into the midst of the Manhattan Clan once more, as an ally and not as an enemy. And despite her own past and reputation she has fallen hard for Brooklyn. 

She knows that this is difficult for him and so realizes that he, like all of them, need to process it. She also knows that to wait too long to strike might very well lose them the opportunity in the offing. She rubbed his shoulders where his wings draped down like a curtain and whispered. “Whenever you are ready, my love.”

“Right then,” Brooklyn stated, turning a significant glance in his mate’s direction and then turned his attention back to the other members of his clan. “We move out at dusk. 

“Does the plan still remain the same?” Matt asked.

“For now, “Brooklyn replied. “I want to get a feel for what we’re up against, before I decide if we’d need to make any modifications to our plan of attack.”

“It’s entirely possible that this is a ruse. I hate to say this, but if Lexington has gone over to the other side,” Matt said, “he knows we think and operate.”

“In other words, we might very well be walking into a trap,” Brooklyn replied. “ I’ve considered it. But at the moment, I don’t see how we have any other choice. 

“This might be our one chance to get at the Citadel,” Demona added.

“Then let’s go!” Broadway added, not to be outdone.

“It’s only a few more hours until dusk, getting what rest you can and then we head out.”


End file.
